


21 days

by wordswithdragons



Category: The Dragon Prince
Genre: F/M, some angst but we steamrolling fluff and good relationship development here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-26
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-02-19 04:02:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 14,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22904845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordswithdragons/pseuds/wordswithdragons
Summary: They say it takes 21 days to form a habit. // Rayllum from 1x03-3x05.
Relationships: Callum & Ezran & Rayla (The Dragon Prince), Callum/Rayla (The Dragon Prince)
Comments: 68
Kudos: 416





	1. 1x03 — Moonrise

Even as he races away from the roof, Callum keeps the elf — the girl — Rayla, he thinks the older assassin had called her — in the back of his mind. How long will she be able to hold him up? And what if she can't, what if—

He leaves Ezran and the Egg in the courtyard, this time. They'd brought it to the roof and it saved them— _Ez, show him_ —and doomed them in equal measure. If he brings it up to his stepfather, and things go poorly... But it's the only chance they have to try and stop the assassination and the mission. He doesn't know what the king will be able to do— _the real illusion of childhood is that adults have all the power_ —but they have to try, don't they?

Even once the terror of having his voice stolen—Viren, trusted, turned, _twisted_ —the taunt ringing in his ears, _how are you sure he doesn't already know?_ —and Callum chooses to run, because what choice does he have, really, past his father's chambers, past the bodies on the stairs, out into the courtyard towards his brother and the girl—

"Callum!" Ezran greets, worried. "Did you get to talk to Dad?"

All Callum has the strength to do is shake his head and not just because he's out of breath. The lump in his throat burns and despite himself, he turns back to look at the tower. Not even two seconds gone and he's already looking back at what he's left behind. But how is he supposed to go forward? They don't know what they're doing. It's just him and Ez and the Egg, and—

Rayla hands his bag over as he turns around to face him, her jaw set, but for the first time her determination isn't scary, but reassuring. Because he knows that she means it when she says, "Say the word and I'll go back into that tower with you," despite what it would do to her. Turning against her people more fully, all to save a human king. What it would do to them, leaving Ez alone with the Egg, vulnerable in the courtyard...

The same resolve takes hold of him, his certainty now unshaken. "No," he says. "It's up to us have to return this Egg, we have to keep it safe, and carry it to Xadia."

"And find its mother," Ezran chimes, Egg in his arms.

"We could change things," Rayla says. His words from the day before come rushing back. _Can't you just make peace with them?_ "We could make a _difference_."

Callum smiles at each of them. "Just the three of us," and then an amendment at Bait's irritated croak. "Four of us."

But still, he catches Rayla's gaze. Because Ezran is not a fighter, and the Egg needs to be protected, and it will be their job now. When the world bends like it does today, towards the difficult, towards the impossible, they won't be able to break and he needs to make sure she knows that. Her gaze is still hard when she nods, jaw set, and he nods back at her, the deal made and understood in precious few seconds.

Then Callum turns, Ezran still holding the Egg, and Rayla leads them through the courtyard.

And then they run.


	2. 1x04 — Bloodthirsty

She is going to _kill_ him.

Alright, maybe not literally this time, but Rayla can't help but grift her teeth as she shifts in the rafters, edging her way to the Banthor Lodge's attic in a way that is swift enough to be unnoticed by the human army down below, but feels slow to her. Why did she ever listen to Callum in the first place? Stupid boy, and she'd been stupid to listen to him. She'd known it was a bad idea! And yet— _you called me a mage and that felt right_...

If she could, Rayla would bang her head against one of the beams. What a soft hearted idiot she was.

Still, there must be a way to salvage this situation right? They can get out once night falls, even if they've lost a day of travelling. She just has to stay hidden until then and then find the boys. Rayla eases onto her heels and squares her shoulders, tucking herself into another corner before one of the humans can look her way.

If she survives this — if they all do — she is going to kill him. All this for a stupid cube.

How far is she from the game room, anyway? She's crawled up to the upper level of the house now as the boys got corralled into lunch with their aunt and her interpreter. There seems to be bedrooms down one hall. A closet with sleds she'd watched a few soldiers poke through. They're still searching another hallway.

Does it matter, though? Getting the cube was the point when they weren't humans at the lodge. Now there are. Their priorities should be getting out as soon as possible, hopefully by nightfall at the latest, and her staying safe and hidden until then. If the boys don't trust their aunt to respond well to the mission (could she respond _worse_ than Runaan, Rayla wonders darkly) then she'll have to trust that judgment call, too. And that they won't abandon the mission in favour of just staying with their aunt, too.

But Rayla doesn't think they would. Callum had turned away from the tower to take on this mission. Ez rarely let the Egg out of his sight. They'd already left home and whatever other family they had (if any) for this cause and with barely an hour's preparation for it. They won't forsake it now. The Banthor Lodge is likely the last familiar thing they'll see for a while...

Rayla drags a hand down her face and risks a sigh.

She still has to get the dumb cube, doesn't she? Because what Callum said about feeling _right_ isn't suddenly untrue just because it's gotten more inconvenient, and if she doesn't get the cube, they really would've come here for nothing.

It's been a day and a half and she's already going soft.

What have the humans done to her, really?


	3. 1x05 — An Empty Throne

They walk for a few more hours, twilight dwindling when Rayla says that it's time to make camp. Their legs aren't nearly as tired as they'd spent most of the day pleasantly in the boat — _mostly_. Callum knows Rayla is glad to leave it behind and after getting nearly eaten by a giant fish, even he can agree that maybe walking is safer. Oh, he shouldn't have thought about food; he'd been doing a good job at ignoring how hungry he was after not eating since a hasty breakfast of berries that morning.

Callum contents himself with getting to set down his pack as Ez does the same, unloading the Egg as well and holding onto Bait. "Are we going to make a fire?" Ezran asks hopefully. "It's little chilly."

Callum supposes that they are still in their wet clothes from the spill in the river. It's too late, the sun too low, to hang anything to dry, and they don't really have anything else to change into, either.

Rayla places her hands on her hips. "We can get a fire going now," she agrees, "if you two can get the kindle and logs. I need to go foraging before it gets much darker."

"Oh," says Ezran and then he beams. "We can do that."

There's a fondness Callum can recognize in her face when she looks at his brother, and it melts him halfway. "Alrighty then. I'll go foraging. I expect a fire ready for roaring when I get back." Her hand flits to her bound wrist for a moment and Callum's gut clenches as she disappears into the woods, half of him still icy.

Or if not icy, rational. Pragmatic. Protective.

He hates himself for it as he turns to his brother, who is already in the middle of examining the ground for kindling, and says, "We can't trust her."

Ezran looks up, face scrunching. "What? Why?"

"I just... would feel better if you and I hung onto the egg for now. Carrying it, you know."

Ezran shifts and looks back to where he set his pack with the egg down. "You think she'd take it?"

 _I don't know_ , Callum wants to say, because he doesn't. He doesn't think so, but is he really going to take that chance? He doesn't know what sort of game Rayla is playing — what she's hiding — only that she is, and he hasn't figured it out. Not yet. He bends down on one knee next to Ezran. The kid is softer and sweeter but it's important that he understands.

"Just in case," Callum says, gut still twisting with guilt. "Like if she's not there in the morning or something, just wake me up and tell me, alright?"

He has no false preconceptions that Rayla couldn't just take the egg and vanish into thin air with it. That even if they had a head start, she'd far outpace them. But he doesn't know, either, what went on with the older elf assassin on the roof, or what was discussed, and today was better, but she might still be holding a grudge from yesterday, and the older elf had been willing to kill them for the egg, and Rayla only hadn't — he thinks — because of it, and...

Ezran glances away from him, frowning and bothered. Callum places a hand on his shoulder. Of course this bothers his brother; it bothers him too. He wishes it _could_ be that easy. That he could trusting as his brother. But...

_And I'm also here for his son, Prince Ezran._

"I need you to promise me, Ez," Callum says.

Slowly, Ez nods. "I promise. But I don't like it, Callum."

They break apart when Rayla lands and she quips something about them being slow as snails at gathering firewood. Ezran recovers first, chatting brightly with her as he goes to collect some twigs for kindling and Rayla unloads the berries she found. Callum watches them for a moment then turns away.

He sighs and goes to find some logs.

Yeah, he thinks. I don't like it either.


	4. 1x06 — Through the Ice

The egg sits nearby, lolling slightly on the flat plains of ice. Ezran goes to pick it up, but his fingers are still wet and slippery and freezing, and Callum catches him when he stumbles. "Careful," Callum says, glancing back at Rayla. She looks as worried as he feels. They're exhausted and still stranded on the lake, Ezran is in sopping wet clothes and the Egg isn't bright, anymore. They need to get off the lake at the very least, somewhere safe. Shelter. Warmth.

It becomes clear, as Callum adjusts his hold on his brother to bear more of Ezran's weight, that Ez won't be able to walk on his own to that shelter either, not that Callum can blame him; if _he_ feels this exhausted, he can only imagine how drained and adrenaline emptied and cold _Ezran_ feels. And very quickly, Callum realizes that as much as he loves his brother, he won't be able to carry him, his boots skidding on the ice, straining to even lift the kid off his feet, let alone into a proper sort of carry.

Rayla watches him struggle for a moment and then holds out her arms. "Let me."

This time Callum catches himself. "But your hand."

The purple wrist flexes as she gives her arms, and her offer, an insistent sort of shake. "My hand," she affirms, "not my arms. C'mon. I'll carry Ez and you can carry the Egg. We need to get out of the elements."

There's no point in arguing — and besides, they've done enough of that for today — and Callum hoists his brother up and then into his arms. Ezran's eyes flutter closed, but his breathing is mercifully steady, as Callum passes him over to Rayla, making sure her hold is secure before he lets go. Her binding is bright silver against Ezran's red tunic and the Callum's dark coat that they've wrapped around him now.

_And this binding will never come off as long as he's alive. It will just get tighter and tighter until I lose my hand. But I'm ready to pay that price._

Rayla cradles Ezran to her chest and guilt is heavy in Callum's, as he picks up the Egg and they set off across the ice. He's already apologized for doubting her, but now that he knows what it actually was—her own pain—his stomach squelches further. Especially when their argument led to the avalanche, which led to Ez and the Egg in the water, and then all this...

Does she know now, then, that he trusts her? That he really does?

The egg is heavy, especially without a bag to carry it, his own already full, but Rayla is carrying Ezran without complaint, so Callum keeps his mouth shut as they make their way to the shore. Snow rises up their shins and Rayla keeps her gaze upward.

"There's a mountain there," she says, pointing as much as she can. "We could probably find a cave."

"Looks like the best we're gonna get," he agrees. Even if it'll be a steep climb.

They straggle over to the base of the mountain, Ez snuffling a little, when Callum looks at the hard set of Rayla's jaw and words bubble up in his throat. His lips go to form her name, but it catches. He clears it and tries again.

"Are you sure you don't want to carry the Egg?" he asks, because it's important she _knows_. Knows that it wasn't just because they were running out of options, because he was desperate. He'd trust her again. He'd trust her now. He did, leaving the camp in a rush even when she refused to explain why, instead of digging in his heels; he does. Part of him thinks he always has, even as he wondered if he _should_.

Rayla glances at him and readjusts Ezran in her arms. Their eyes meet, and he knows she understands what he's really offering. A slight smile tugs at her lips, despite their situation. "I'm sure," she says.

Because on the ice, they'd worried for _Ezran_ and _not_ the Egg, and that's scary—another source of guilt for later—and it's that, more than anything, that binds them. Because Ezran is the most important thing in the world to him, and they both know it.

Rayla carries his brother up the mountain and Callum follows behind without checking ahead.

If that's not trust, then what is?


	5. 1x07 — The Dagger and the Wolf

Callum thinks that all things considered, he's good at not letting on how worried he actually is. He's never been a particularly gifted liar — well, he can lie _okay_ , he guesses — but he doesn't have to be. He wishes Rayla would take her own safety a bit more seriously, maybe, as her human impression could definitely use work, but... He knows on the one hand that Rayla is all too capable of taking care of herself. He's seen it firsthand. But, on the _other_ hand, he also remembers all too clearly the terror that had seized him and Ezran when they realized Rayla had been captured by Aunt Amaya back at the Banthor Lodge.

And now they're in a town, surrounded by humans, and Rayla's gone off on her own. By necessity, he knows — she needs that Sunforge dagger and it had been his idea; they didn't have time to go as a group — but still. If something happens, or goes wrong while they're separated, he and Ez won't have any idea, won't have any idea until maybe it's too late—

"I can hear you thinking," Ezran drawls, as close to sarcastic as he can be.

Okay, maybe he's not as good as hiding his thought process as he thinks. Callum sighs. "Sorry." His nervous spirals aren't exactly fun to be around even when they're kept inside his head.

"It's okay," Ezran says, his tone more gentle this time. "But Rayla will be okay."

"I know." He doesn't know when worrying about Rayla became normal for him. But he hasn't been able to stop thinking about her binding since yesterday on the ice — hasn't been able to stop thinking about her binding at all since they met, in a way. She's a back-flipping, tree-climbing, sword-stabbing elven warrior, and he knows he isn't feeling this way because of a lack of faith or trust.

He just doesn't trust _his_ own people, anymore, and it's a strange thought. Not with her.

Then again, according to Aunt Amaya when she'd explained what had happened with Rayla to them, Rayla had been able to 'hold her own,' at least. If Rayla can somewhat handle their _aunt_ , then she can probably handle almost any number of humans in a rather small town, too, still far away from the border. At least long enough to escape. And she's good at stealth. She spent almost the whole day successfully evading humans at the Banthor Lodge who were looking for an intruder. At least here in town she'll have the element of surprise and advantage of more open space.

She'll be alright, he thinks. He just hopes the dagger will work.

She's a good person and his friend and she deserves to keep her hand. And if that will also help her keep herself safe, too, then that's just a bonus.


	6. 1x08 — Cursed Caldera

It's a long way up the Caldera, when Rayla meanders over to Callum, out of both boredom and curiosity. "So," she says, sidling, "indescribable terrors, huh?" That's what Ellis had said, at least. _Horrifying, blood-curdling, creepy_. "What d'you think they'll be?"

"I think we shouldn't tempt fate," Callum says dryly.

"Oh come on, we've got to have some fun."

"Fun like making fun of me?"

Rayla resists the urge to roll her eyes. "You know Ez and I don't _mean_ it. And your plan was a good one. It worked, didn't it?"

Callum softens. "Yeah. Hopefully things can go smoother next time, but I'll take surviving right now as a win."

"There you go," she says cheerfully. "Now, will you let me in on that big brain of yours and what _other_ indescribable terrors we might find? Because I for one was _not_ expecting the slug."

He cracks a grin. "It was pretty nasty, huh?"

"Oh," Rayla agrees, "disgusting." Each of them laugh and she raises her eyebrows at him expectantly once they're done. "So?"

"I dunno. I don't think too much about monsters." Callum looks at her a tad shrewd. "Why do you wanna know?"

"I dunno," she echoes, even though she does. She isn't sure if it's because she does want to get to know Callum as much as he wants to know her "I guess I'm just—you know what I'm scared of. I guess I'm just curious about what you're scared of. Monsters aren't frightening enough for you?"

Callum turns away for a moment, glancing off the path. His eyes grow thoughtful. "Monsters aren't real. And there's a lot of things I'm scared of—I don't like spiders or heights—but... I'm only actually _really_ scared of one thing."

Rayla nudges, ever so lightly, now much more somber. "Which is?"

"Losing the people I love."

She thinks of his father and swallows. "Oh." Thinks of the woman he'd drawn in his sketchbook and how for as long as she could remember, whenever the elves had spoken of the King of Katolis, they'd spoken of him ruling alone. His mother must've died when he was young, too. Not for the first time, the secret makes her throat swell and sore. _Just tell him_. She'll have to.

Callum gives her a half hearted smile. "I just don't want anything like that to happen again."

She thinks of him giving his life for Ezran, trying to dive after his brother into the black, cold, water. Thinks of him, most recently, yelling her name when she'd tripped only a few hours ago, the panic in his voice. The way he'd then saved her with _aspiro_ after she'd saved herself.

She'd opened up this conversation. She has to give him some solace, even if it isn't true.

"It won't," she says, and his smile lifts as he _trusts_ her.

It leaves her feeling both better and worse than ever.


	7. 1x09 — Wonderstorm

Eventually the Dragon Prince, the miracle, _Zym_ , tuckers himself out. Ezran is tired too — they've been walking since early morning and all through the night and it's not like Ez got a good night's sleep while sick. Ellis eases him onto Ava for the last leg up the Caldera, as Lujanne says she has a place they can all rest. Rayla is still rejoicing the reclamation of her hand, and figuring that she'll carry the sleepy dragon snoozing at her feet up the mountain, when Callum hefts him into his own arms.

He looks tired too, but his smile is gentle when Zym chirps, half curious and half sleepily, at him. "Yeah, I guess we haven't been properly introduced, Your Highness," he smiles. "I'm Callum." And it is so very _Callum_ , the way he staggers slightly when Zym shifts to bury his head in the soft looking scarf around the boy's neck, but he just smiles and pats the dragonling on the back of the head before Callum keeps walking.

It's adorable. He's adorable.

Rayla stops. That thought is new. Callum has always been, well, cute, in his own way. And annoying. And annoyingly endearing. She's known from the start that he's a good brother. But him being sweet and kind and caring, even when she'd been rather nasty, that had been a surprise.

"Hey." Callum is glancing back at her over his shoulder, Zym cradled to his chest. She wonders if it's the same way he would've carried Ezran when they were little. "You coming?"

He's terribly attentive, too. Smart. He'd figured out how to save Zym. Had done so of his own accord and with little to no hesitation, even if it had cost...

He's selfless. He's _wonderful_.

Her cheeks heat strangely and Rayla clears her throat. "Yeah." She moves to keep step with him, walking by his side while Ava trots ahead with Lujanne. Tries not to look at him too much out of the corner of her eye.

She's known she could like him since the boat ride, in spite of every instinct. Even if he was a human — although humans weren't what she thought — even if they didn't fully trust each other. But knowing that she _could_ like him — like him far _too_ much — is different than knowing that she does.

And she does.

Part of her wants to panic, because it's stupid and she's still hiding things about their dad and they have a mission. What if this becomes a distraction, a weakness? The other part is scared, not that she'll ever admit it. Because she likes him and she _knows_ he doesn't like her. Not like that. So her crush is useless, basically.

She chances a glance and sees him stroking his fingers through the fur on Zym's head, and he smiles brightly at her when he catches her eye. "We really did it, huh?"

The spark of happiness in his eyes silences all other thoughts. Because they _did_ make it this far, and part of her didn't think they would. Rayla beams back at him, giddy. The night is old but the morning will be new and it sort of feels like anything could happen for the better.

"Yeah," she says. "We did."

They are worse people, after all, to have a crush on.


	8. 2x01 — A Secret and A Spark

The first day all they do, mostly, is sleep. Lujanne's a safe haven they didn't realize they were looking for — at least not this much — and it's nice to have somewhere, well, safe to be since all the craziness of the past six days. Fleeing the castle, escaping the Lodge, leaving the river, finding shelter from the elements, running from town, climbing the Caldera. It's easily been the hardest week of Callum's life, physically at least. Leaving home in general and almost losing Ezran hasn't been easy either.

Then, when the kids do wake up, Lujanne feeds them food so fine and rich and filling it could only be made by magic. It's only when they're fed and rested for the first time in days that Callum goes to grab his primal stone and remembers the cold hard truth. Oh. _Right_. He distracts himself next. The Moon Nexus is beautiful and has plenty worth drawing. There's no need to be upset, even if—

_Without this, I'm nothing._

"Hey, sad prince."

He only looks up a little, looking away once Rayla goes to sit down next to him on one of the benches scattered around the Moon Nexus. Sunset is beautiful here, just like the day before, the sky bathed in honey. "Hey," he says quietly and the silence stretches out slowly.

"Lujanne is showing Ez and Ellis her library," Rayla says, practically a verbal nudge in her voice. "Surprised you didn't want to come. Aren't you a bit of a nerd?"

Callum doesn't smile. "Why didn't you want to go?"

"I've never been much of a book person. More of a slish-slash type of gal, y'know?"

That gets him, his lips twitching as he turns to look at her slightly. There's a proud curl to her mouth, even if concern still shines in her eyes. About him. It lifts him up. "You don't say?"

Rayla's smile softens. This time when silence falls, it's comfortable. Callum sits up straighter. His shoulders feel lighter. They sit on the bench and watch the sky darken behind the trees surrounding the Moon Nexus, the sun a warm orange glow sinking below the mountains.

"It was good," she says at last, not looking at him, "what you did."

It catches him off guard. She must know, at least a little, that part of him did it for her. He doesn’t think almost anything can hurt as much as watching Rayla _cry_. "What?"

"Smashing the primal stone to save Zym." She leans closer, eyes tracing his face. "I know how much it meant to you."

Callum forces a smile and takes his cube out of his bag. "Hey, least I still have this, thanks to you."

She snorts. "Your glow-toy. Yay."

"Better than nothing," he says.

Rayla claps him on the shoulder, no humour in her face when she says, "Yes. You certainly are." 

For a second, Callum starts, because there's no way she _heard_ his conversation with Ellis, right? Elf hearing can't be _that_ good. But then... maybe she just knows him well enough to _know_. 

His heart lifts and this time it doesn't drop down; not by a chance, not when her softened eyes catch his and they both smile. Callum's grows. "Thanks, Rayla."


	9. 2x02 — Half Moon Lies

"I still can't believe you. Letting them stay at the _Nexus_ —"

Callum does his best not to sigh, as he and Rayla make their way back to the dwelling Lujanne had set aside for their party of five (seven, including Ellis and Ava). "Where else was I supposed to put them?" he asks, swivelling around to face her scowl. "The Caldera?"

"The illusions wouldn't hurt them."

"Yeah, but they don't know that." It does make him wonder how Soren and Claudia made their way up to the Caldera in the first place, or how they were tracked here, but it's just another question for tomorrow, added onto the list that weren't answered today.

"Let them squirm," Rayla sulks, still holding her muddied blades. A brown clump clings to her cheek.

Without thinking, Callum reaches over and wipes it off with his thumb. Rayla stares at him, eyes wide, an angry flush in her cheeks, and he backtracks, too tired to feel too awkward. "Come on," he says, before she can hopefully really process what he's just done. "I'll help you clean up."

He gets a pail of warm water and two rags from the dwelling before coming back to the bench where Rayla’s waiting, neither wanting to track more mud into the Moonshadow house than necesary.

Rayla swipes her blades out of his reach when he goes to grab one. "Careful," she warns. "They're still hot."

"Hot?"

"Claudia cast some Dark Magic spell on 'em and they just about burned my hands off when I went to pick them up—"

"What?" Callum can't even be embarrassed at how his voice pitches, as he seizes Rayla's hand and worriedly inspects it. Her palm and fingers are mostly obscured by her blade handle and dried mud. It doesn't _look_ like there are any burn marks, or angry red streaks, at least not on _this_ hand, but—

Rayla snatches her hand back, looking both somehow less and more angry than before. "I'm fine _now_ , Callum. The mud took the brunt of it," she explains. "Guess it's good for something."

Pursing his lips, Callum tries to let his worry ebb away with little success. When he'd heard the fighting, the clashing of swords, realized what was going on—the terror in his throat at seeing Rayla fighting two-to-one, her blades nowhere to be found and Soren's rising in the air, he'd—

"Besides," Rayla finishes in a mutter. "If that hadn't happened, I might've sliced Soren open, and then you'd really be in a tricky spot, wouldn't you—"

Then it's his turn to throw her a sharp look. "You think I was worried about _Soren_?" he demands, indignant, and almost as riled up as he had been about the egg on the mountain. Doesn't she _get it_?

Rayla blinks, clearly caught off guard. "Uh—"

Callum takes her hand again and sits her down on the bench, keeping her hand in his lap as he takes a warm rag and starts cleaning it, laying her blade next to them. He makes sure not to scrub too hard even as he fixes her with a fierce stare. "They had you cornered and outnumbered," he says, "and yeah they had good-ish reasons for attacking you but they were still attacking you, and _I know you_ —you wouldn't have killed them."

Her free hand curls uncertainly into a fist. "Well, uh, I mean—"

"Because you know I care about them," he says, looking her in the eye. "But I care about _you_ , too. Do you have any idea how scary it was to see Soren swing at you like that?"

Rayla visibly flounders, her defences knocked down for once. Done with her, Callum rolls his eyes and turns his attention fully to her hand, rinsing out the muddied rag in the grass before dunking it in the pail again and starting over. He waits until her hand is done before tossing her the second rag.

"Do you wanna clean your other hand or start on your blades?" he asks.

Some sort of coherent thought manages to push through to her mouth. "I'll... clean my blades," she mumbles, so Callum switches sides to start cleaning her other hand. They work in silence for a while, him nearly done when Rayla says, very quietly, "Thanks, for..."

This. Bailing her out. She doesn't have to say it, even if Callum thinks it would be kind of nice if she did. "You're welcome," he says, still a little annoyed.

He finishes cleaning her hand when she's only halfway done her blade—a perfectionist, it seems, and they probably need to be extra clean in order to fold in on themselves, too—and doesn't feel bad at all about standing up and laying his rag over the rim of the pail.

He's been awake for a good hour and a half now, if not more, but there's still a couple of hours until sunrise, and he's tired. Knows that Rayla knows he's leaving her now to go back to bed and she puts up no protest. Maybe still annoyed with him too, or taken aback by his reaction, or... Who knows, but it doesn't really matter. She's safe and Soren and Claudia will see sense in the morning. He'll make sure of it.

Even if he has parting words for her anyway, before he goes.

"And try and get some rest once you're done, would you?" he says. "It's not good for you to be pushing yourself like this."

Rayla hesitates for just a moment. "I will," she says, so he turns to leave and has taken five steps back towards the dwelling when she calls, "And Callum?" He half turns, expecting perhaps a real thank you. Maybe even an apology? A wry little smile is playing at her lips. "Nice bedhead."

It's so absurd and ridiculous, unexpected and playful and so utterly Rayla, that he can't help but smile back. The last of his annoyance fades away as he rolls his eyes and tries (fails) to hide his smile, even as he turns around to walk towards the dwelling.

"Goodnight, Rayla," he says with finality, and hears her cackle lightly to herself as she walks away—still looking at his bedhead, he bets—and lets relief mingle in with his mind.

Thank the gods she's okay.


	10. 2x03 — Smoke and Mirrors

"It's the perfect plan," Rayla says, holding onto her patience even when Callum rolls his eyes. She thought him taking her side and talking about Harrow would mean they're finally done fighting, not the start of another disagreement.

"Oh really?" Callum says. "And how d'you figure that?"

"You and Ezran will be out of harm's way, up on Phoe-Phoe—"

"I do like the sound of flying," Ez chimes in. Rayla can physically see Callum resisting the urge to shoot his baby brother a sharp look.

"Ellis and Ava provide the perfect cover for the charm," she continues, the girl and wolf glowing with pride from where they sit on the opposite bed. "Someone should be on the ground and Lujanne only has so many moths."

"Then let me be on the ground," Callum says. "That way, if they notice anything is up with Ezran's illusion, I can help cover it—"

"No," Rayla argues. She thinks of Soren and the loose peg in the tree trunk. She doesn't know how much her hunch that Soren _wanted_ there to be an accident—wanted Ezran to—and how much Claudia may be working in a similar vein. "That defeats the whole purpose. If one of you is on the ground, you're at risk of getting hurt, or being dragged home—"

" _If_ we can't trust them," Ezran reminds her. He's more in the middle than his brother; more willing to go along with what either of them decide. It doesn't actually take the pressure off, even if it leaves them less strained.

Callum is undeterred. "If _we can't trust them_ ," he says, looking at Rayla with a fierce look in his eyes, "then they'll _kill you_."

Rayla snorts and crossed her arms over her chest. "They can certainly try."

" _Rayla_." Then she looks at him—looks at his eyes—and sees it plain on his face, underneath the argument, underneath the anger. _I can't lose anyone else. I can't lose_ you _._ And if he has to lose Soren and Claudia as friends, he doesn't want to _also_ lose _her_ , too.

She softens. Everything she said is still true. "I'll be fine," she promises. " _If_ we can't trust them. I know you really think we should."

Enough of a jab to push some irritation onto his face, rather than just fear and worry. "I do," he says, lips tugged downwards. And he knew she really thought they couldn't. Only one of them would end up being right.

Rayla thinks it's his faith, partially, that the plan won't be needed that lets him let her walk out the door to the smooth steps outside their dwelling. Ellis and Ezran are chatting excitedly about moon magic behind her when Callum follows her out and catches her wrist.

She stares at him, and he flounders just a little, letting go. "Just... be careful."

She blinks and then nods. "I will."

And if she thinks his gaze might linger on her, she doesn't look back to check (for both their sakes). 


	11. 2x04 — Voyage of the Ruthless

Rayla wrinkles her nose at him when she pulls away, his sopping hair falling in front of his eyes, but Callum can't stop smiling at her. "Come on," she says, and the three of them, an electric Zym still in Ez's arms, head down below decks. "You'll freeze if you stay in wet clothes."

"I'll see if I can get Villads to put on the kettle for tea," Ezran offers. And to put out a plate of warm, buttery crumpets, Callum bets, but Rayla lets him go off towards the kitchen anyway.

She'd hugged him. The thought — memory now — makes Callum feel warmer than it probably should. He hadn't thought Rayla would be smug upon his entry out of the storm. She's too kind for that. But chiding, maybe? Or even angry. He could expect and deal with that. But she'd been warm and gentle and just _glad_ that he was okay, even if he'd been a stupid chicken, not brave enough.

That sobers him, another day in drenched clothes, but on a shore in front of a setting sun instead of a boat moored next to a rising one. _My parents aren't really dead,_ she'd revealed. _But I wish they were. They're_ cowards _._

He feels the coldness settling into his skin, into his bones, clothes hanging off his narrow frame, quietly distant as they troop down to the little room Villads had given them for their meagre assortment of belongings and three hammocks to sleep in. He fidgets with the soaked leather of his gloves when Rayla stops in front of the tiny ladder that leads to her top hammock, set over his.

"You don't think I'm a coward?" he says.

Rayla pulls his waterlogged scarf loose. "No," she says shortly, "why would I?" She hangs it on one of the ladder rungs to dry.

"I didn't have the guts," he repeats, just like on the dock.

She rolls her eyes and starts undoing the buttons on his coat, his fingers too cold and shaky to. "Yes, and?"

"I chose my life over what I was supposed to do. Or be. Just like... just like your parents."

Rayla looks up at him, now glaring. "No," she says sharply, "you didn't. Being a mage may be your destiny, Callum, but it's not your _duty_."

"Oh." His cheeks flush when he meets her eyes, because there's a lot less room between them than he thought, as she undoes the last button and then steps away. He can wiggle out of his jacket mostly on his own. "Then what is my duty?"

She bristles as though it should be obvious. "Being a good big brother to Ezran, dummy. And sticking around to be my friend. Magic's not worth your life, Callum. You're worth more than that. And you're nothing like my parents, even if you are..."

Becoming her family, maybe. It's not the first time that thought has struck him about her, either. "I get it," he says and she seems relieved. He hangs up his jacket and turns back to her. "Thanks. For everything and uh, not rubbing it in." Any of it, really.

"Please," she says as they walk out of the sleeping quarters. "You give me plenty of other material to work with." She reaches over and pokes him on the nose. "Cute dumb idea face and all."

It's amazing, he thinks, trailing after her with a dopey grin on his face, how quickly she's become an expert at cheering him up. How everything feels more manageable when she's around. Their mission achievable. His life, worth it. 

And her... definitely something special.

(If the bravest person he knows doesn't think he's a coward, then that has to count for something.)


	12. 2x05 — Breaking the Seal

"Before we left," Callum says quietly, the wind low on the dark, rolling seas as they lean on the Ruthless' railing, "Claudia gave me a letter."

Rayla's stomach twists. A love letter is the thing that springs to mind, no matter how foolish it may be. "Oh."

"I dropped it," Callum continues, "back at the castle, when you kicked me."

It takes her a moment to remember. He had been holding a scroll of some kind, hadn't he? Or in his bag. Something had fallen out. Their first meeting at the castle — never mind those first violent minutes in particular — feels like a lifetime ago, even if it's only been twelve days. She'd die for him now, she knows. Him and Ezran. She's trusted them with her life and her with theirs. They'd never hurt one another, not ever. Still, she winces, an apology on the tip of her tongue but Callum pushes on.

"It was from my stepdad."

Her face falls even if his remains rather impassive, the only cracks the way his eyes glisten in the moonlight and stare off listlessly into the sea. Rayla keeps her eyes on him and lays a hand on his shoulder. "And?"

"I don't know." His voice is soft now, unsure. "I don't know. Part of me is guilty that I have a letter and Ez doesn't."

Rayla squeezes his shoulder. "Maybe he knew you would need it more?" she suggests. His confession on the bench comes back to her, as bleak as it was then. _I think I did know, deep down, I just hoped that if I didn't think about it, that it wouldn't be true._ "That you would... that you'd know."

"I don't know if I want to open it," he reveals. "It makes me think of him and that's still—" Callum sucks in a breath. "Painful. And it makes me think of Claudia."

That draws a frown out of both of them. "Why do you think she gave it to you?"

His frown deepens. "I've given up on trying to figure out how Claudia thinks."

Not one to let him sink into bitterness, Rayla nudges him gently in the ribs. "So," she prods, "the letter?"

Callum is silent for a long time, but Rayla just listens to the way the waves break against the hull of the ship and waits him out. "I don't _want_ to move on," he says finally, his breath hitching. "I don't want to let go."

Rayla wants to hold him. Wants to wrap him up in her arms and protect him from everything. But she can't protect him from grief, only hold him through it, as the only one who can. They can't tell Ezran. She _knows_ they can't — an understanding so innate, a vow silently made so that they never had to say it out loud. But she knows the kid will find out eventually, and Callum won't be able to fully heal until that happens. For now, though, she does want she can.

"You're not letting go," she says softly, sliding her hand over from his shoulder and bracing her arm along his back. Tugging him to her. Callum tucks his head into her neck, scarf askew and drawn up closer to his nose. "You're holding onto something else." Her other hand adjusts his scarf so it doesn't tighten around his neck and they stay like that for a while, in a half sort of hug. She hopes it's enough. That his memories of the king can be enough, too, to keep the love in his heart. She lets Callum draw away first, his eyes a little red, but it doesn't look like he's going to cry.

"I think you should open the letter," she murmurs. "At least then it may not weigh on you so much. And if it does, I'll be right here."

The corners of his mouth lift and gratitude overtakes grief in his eyes. "I know. Thank you, Rayla."

She doesn't quite want to let him go, either, her hand still resting on his back. "Do you want me with you when you read it?"

"No," he answers, thoughtful, and she takes no offence to it. "I think I need to read it alone, the first time."

Her hand falls away. "Come on," she says, jerking her head towards the door. "We should get some sleep."

There's one tiny room below decks set aside for them, three hammocks apiece. Ezran is rolled over in his, snoring slightly with Bait. Rayla goes to the climb the tiny ladder that leads to the upper hammock when Callum catches her wrist. Their eyes meet, even if she's definitely _staring_ more. If he tugs her down and into the hammock with him, she'll let him. Wrap her arms around him and hold him, her chest to his back. Hold him if he cries himself to sleep — she's sure he has. How could he not?

"Thank you," he repeats. He releases her wrist. "For everything."

She gives him a small smile, "Of course," and then they each climb into their hammock. "Goodnight, Callum."

"Goodnight, Rayla."

She waits until his breathing evens out before she lets herself fall asleep, too.


	13. 2x06 — Heart of a Titan

Rayla is hurling over the side of the ship when Callum comes up on deck. It's their third day on the boat, and the last, he knows, now that Villads (or rather, Berto) has spotted land. He came to take in the sunset... not to see a seasick moon elf. Pursing his lips and knowing Rayla doesn't like anyone seeing her in pain, he slowly sidles up to her. "Hey."

Green in the face, Rayla spares him a glance and a weakly uttered, "Hey," before choking back more of the subs they ate for lunch.

"That bad, huh?" he asks sympathetically.

"I'll just be glad we'll be off this stupid boat by tomorrow," she grunts, quickly bending over the railing again.

Callum hesitates for just a moment and then moves closer when she surfaces, one of his hands going to her back to rub circles into it, his other gathering up her hair and pulling it away from her face. Rayla looks at him, brow furrowed, and he ignores the heat in his cheeks. He wants to help _somehow_. The least he can do is hold her hair back. "My mom did this for me," he says, "when I had the puking flu one year."

Rayla opens her mouth to protest—maybe to insist that she _isn't_ a child and _doesn't_ need help—and then yaks over the side again. "Fine," she mutters, wiping at her mouth with the back of her hand. "But if you start asking me questions again—"

"Hey, it worked last time, didn't it?" he says, because conversation can work and they know it. "I still technically have two left."

"Nu-uh. Not today." Rayla hauls herself up and rests her arms and her chin on the railing, her seasickness spell temporarily broken. "I do have a question for you, though. Did you ever end up reading the letter?"

Callum glances behind him but the door below decks stays shut. He told Rayla what he'd planned to do, but there hadn't been time to ask, after coming up on deck to talk to Ez, and seeing the dragon flying overhead, and then dinner. He joins her at the railing. "Yeah."

Rayla's fingers (on her clean hand) poke his elbow. "And...?" her eyes are patient, watching him. "Did it... help?"

"It hurt," he confesses, the words tumbling out without much thought. He shuts his eyes and just listens to the sea for a moment. When he opens his eyes again, Rayla is still looking at him. "But yeah, I think it helped. At the very least I know what it says, and he talked about history... my family's history and part of how it led to all of this. The egg. You, and me—and Ezran. My stepdad thinks that we can have a narrative of love, over a narrative of strength."

Some sort of shadow passes over her face. "Your stepdad..." She presses her lips together. "He was a good man," she says quietly, "wasn't he?"

Not a perfect one, Callum thinks. _For a long time, I didn't know better_. But it almost doesn't matter. "Yeah," he says, "he was."

They're quiet for a long time. Eventually it seems like her seasickness isn't going to come back, so he lets go of her hair, even if he keeps his hand below her shoulder-blades. "You're feeling better?" he checks.

Rayla looks at him, a little taken aback as her lips twist into a smile. Like she still can't believe _he's_ asking about _her_ and not the other way around. "I'm fine," she says and he can tell she means it for once. "And I know you'll make him proud."

He knows she means that, too.


	14. 2x07 — Fire and Fury

"Careful, Soren! She could lead us to Ezran and Callum!" Claudia scolds, and Rayla clutches her blades a little tighter. The rain is heavy on her hood, making the chains shiny. Not making them any easier to break. She should've been more prepared for this. If she dies and this dragon doesn't go free, then it was all for nothing. Then she left the mission and _the boys_ for nothing, and—

"She doesn't have to."

Her head whips towards the trees, as does Claudia's. Rayla must be hallucinating. Just because Callum was upset, and called out after her — she'd said goodbye to him and made her peace with it, mostly, even if—he had said, _I want to go down there with you_ —but he couldn't have—he _can't_ have—

"I'm right here."

But he did.

Rayla's heart leaps to her throat as he emerges from the trees, shadowed in rain and angry like she's never seen, shoulders haunched, gaze dark. What is he _doing_ here? She's _seen_ his efforts to fight first hand against her, and Soren is stupid but he is good, and they're still outnumbered basically just as much as they were when it was just her. He's not a fighter. And no matter how much he loves magic, without a primal stone, he's not a mage. Something slippery and sickly slips into her throat — panted rainwater — but it feels an awful lot like fear. It tastes an awful lot like dread. She was okay with sacrificing her own life for this mission, _not_ Callum's—

Claudia swivels around from the dragon—reveals her back, but Soren is still in the way, so it's a moot point—and Rayla can picture her smiling as she says, "Callum! You're okay! Wait—what are you doing?"

Rayla keeps her eyes on Callum's face. He's clutching something small and green in one fist. "Your kind of magic."

Her gaze narrows. He cannot be serious. Not that stupid, not that foolish, or evil, or—or horribly _human_ —Ezran and Callum see the flaws in Dark Magic, she knows that.

"You don't want to do that Callum," Claudia says, and Rayla can't believe that _now_ of all places they agree. The harm it can do in more ways than one. He wouldn't— _he can't_ —"It's really dangerous unless someone shows you how."

"You already did."

His eyes aren't his eyes and the voice that oozes out of his mouth like pus barely sounds like his voice. Anger twists her gut. How could he. _How could he_. She doesn't care how furious she looks, even if her attention is stolen as the chains turn to snakes and slither after the human knights.

She won't get a chance like this again—she scrounges up her strength and shoves at the dragon with her back. "Get up, you're free—" Then Soren (ugh, this guy) is pointing his sword at her and walks her away from the dragon, taunting all the while, and Rayla is conscious that the dragon isn't awake yet, and she needs to get some distance—she can't just leave without making sure the dragon is okay first, and Callum won't be able to keep up with her at her top speed—but there's no distance to get, and then—

One blue eye snaps open. Soren levies his sword, blade and attention drawn as the furious dragon roars, and Rayla glances back to where Callum was standing by the trees and—

Callum hasn't gotten up. Is collapsed face down in the mud and she can't tell if he's moving—if he's breathing or not—

Her heart _plummets_. Her vision narrows. Even the hum of the dragon's angry rumbling fades to background noise as she puts Soren and the battle at her back and runs to his side. By the time Rayla reaches him, he's struggling, unable to push himself up more than maybe an inch, one hand still curled into a fist. She takes his wrist and slings his arm along her shoulders, braces her other arm along his back to hoist him up. Worried at how much he feels like dead weight.

But he groans and he's breathing and alive, even if his feet aren't steady, and a small smile slips through the worry and anger still twisted up inside.

He came after her. He's _okay_. Which means even if he's done Dark Magic, he's still _her_ Callum. Still the boy she's grown to...

She'll be angry at him later. (Right now, they just need to get out alive.)


	15. 2x08 — The Book of Destiny

Callum can barely see, through the rain and the fog in his brain, but he doesn't need to see in order to know that Rayla is mad at him. Pissed at him even, in a way he hasn't seen since their earliest days. His shoes squelch, thick with rain and mud, and his stomach does similarly. It's hard to walk but he does his best not to drag his feet, aware of just how much weight he's putting on her, too, as she sludges along with him, Ezran and Zym trailing behind.

He knows he's let her down.

But what else was he supposed to do? Let her and the dragon _die_ when he knew he could do something? But he can't muster up any indignant anger on his own behalf. He knows he did what was necessary—he also knows that it was awful. Knew perfectly well that he was dabbling in something Claudia—the thought running through his mind as he skidded down the mountain: do you really want to be like _Claudia?_ —had built her life on.

He remembers being five, and scared, after coming across Viren in one of the halls, skeletal grey and with black eyes. Looking inhuman. His mother had taken him aside to hug him, to reassure and explain. _Sometimes Lord Viren helps your dad with magic stuff, okay? It's nothing to be scared of, even if it isn't something you should do_. She'd elaborated on Dark Magic a bit later, on why it was bad. He knew his parents had fought about it— _You can't just let Viren walk around like that, it scared Callum senseless!_ —knew his mother had died because of it.

He knows he's let her down, too.

"Come _on_ ," Rayla huffs, frustrated, and he makes more of an effort to not drag his feet. It's hard. They're so heavy. His tongue is thick. He's gotten sick before but it's never been this bad. He's nauseas and sluggish and woozy. Every bone in his body aches. But he doesn't say that. He won't be the one who asks for a break. Just forces himself to take more laboured breaths and trudges along beside her, conscious of the way Ez worriedly watches his back.

Part of him wants to apologize. But he knew this too, didn't he? That Rayla would hate him for it. For saving her life. He thinks maybe she would understand more if it had been to save Ezran instead of herself. But she's stubborn and threw herself off the cliff and into the trees, and he—he's just so glad she's alive.

And he can't say he's sorry. Wrong, maybe, but not sorry.

But eventually, he can feel Rayla bend under having to carry his weight so far. It's taking a toll on her too, but she doesn't stop, sopping hair falling in front of her face. "C'mon," she says, voice only slightly strained from frustrated desperation. "We've got to keep moving. We're so close to the border. We could be in Xadia in just a few hours."

"I know we're close Rayla," says Ezran, gentle, "but Callum's not doing well."

Which is the truth, and he might say so if he could make his vocal chords work again.

"That's his own fault for messing with Dark Magic," she replies, but not as sharply as she could.

He forces his eyes open. He doesn't _want_ her to be angry with him, though. "Mmhm, yes, you're right," he agrees and it works. She softens when she looks at him, at the slight crack in his voice. "We must move onward." But he steps too far away from her pillar of support, his arm slipping out from around her shoulders. He careens forwards, too slow to stop it either, but Rayla grabs the back of his jacket and scarf. Hoists him back up carefully, Ezran's hand a small warm weight on his other arm. Rayla places her hand on his left arm. It doesn't leave, like Ezran's, once she pulls him back to his feet. "I'm okay," he mumbles, oddly delirious. He's just glad she's close. And didn't let him fall face first in the mud. She's not _that_ angry with him. "I just need to rest my eyes while we walk."

They go back to the cave they were staying in, the mountain just as steep the first time, the climb twice as long. Callum watches Ezran runs ahead to lay down his pack and Zym and to get out of the rain while he can, and Rayla slogs beside him, even if she doesn't like water or the rain. Keeps him steady on the rocks and one arm braced along his back so he doesn't slip. Once they reach the mouth of the cave his whole body hurts and there's barely any relief in knowing he doesn't have to walk anymore.

Ezran darts past to kneel by the bag that's going to be his pillow, while Rayla maneuvers him in her arms to lay him down; he feels almost like a rag doll. He _feels_ like garbage. She gets him sitting first, the ground cold but dry against his legs, and keeps her hands on his chest and back as she eases him the rest of the way down and she shifts to kneel beside him. Her hand doesn't leave his chest, her other sliding up to cup the back of his head, fingers soft against his wet hair, before she lets his head rest against the pillow.

"I'm so uncomfortable," he groans, but not because of her touch.

Even if her hands leave him. "Uncomfortable because of your choice to use Dark Magic perhaps?" she says, snide. Then Ezran says something, but it sounds too far to tell. Let them bicker for once, he thinks numbly. They can't do anything.

They can't save him from this, but, at the very least, Rayla is alright and the dragon is free.

(Maybe when he wakes up—if he wakes up—she won't hate him anymore.)


	16. 2x09 — Breathe

All her life, Rayla has been running. Running from the other kids in her village who didn't like her jokes, running from the absence of her parents and then the legacy of their cowardice.

It feels like she hasn't stopped, for the past sixteen days. Her arms are still sore from bearing the brunt of her swords, her pants waterlogged from the rain. Her hands are already shaking when she grabs Callum's shoulders, his breathing laboured and shallow. She doesn't know what's happening. She doesn't know what to do. He can't breathe. He can't _die._ He has to listen to her. For once in his life can he please just listen to her without a fight—

"Callum, Callum, please—" Tears build in her eyes. Panic rises like a sob, thick in her throat. His breathing isn't getting better. It's getting _worse_. Her fingers clutch at the fabric of his coat, his scarf. He can't leave. He was supposed to be different. He was supposed to be the one who _stayed_.

Please listen _please_ listen—

"You've got to stay with me!"

She can't run from this.

He's a human just like the rest of them and _she can't lose him_.

Tears spill from her eyes and trickle pitifully down her cheeks when she bows her head, past the point of desperation. She pauses and then hauls him up, cradling him to her chest, his front pressed to hers. At least this way she can make sure he's breathing, each breath hoarse and rattling next to her ear. He's still warm, thank the gods. Hasn't gone cold. Not yet _not yet_.

"Callum, please, come back," she begs, clutching at his jacket. She rests her chin on his shoulder to get closer, staring at nowhere in the cave in particular, the sun at her back. "It doesn't matter what you did before," she bargains. She'll never say a peep about him doing Dark Magic again. Will swear up and down that it was even the right thing to do if he'll just open his eyes and make it out of this. "I just want you to be okay again," she admits. The last thing he heard her say was probably something mean and nasty and now he'll never know that she—Rayla scrunches her eyes shut and pushes past the lump in her throat.

"I can't lose you like this," she continues, because she always expected to lose him. To Claudia's affections or even just at the end of this journey, that he'd turn around and go home like this was a singular, life changing event and it—them, whatever they were, would be over. That she didn't mean as much to him as he meant to her, because—

"You mean too much to me," she confesses. Draws back to look at his pale face, his drooping head. It feels like if she touches him again, he'll break. That if she touches him too tenderly, her heart will. But isn't it already a little late for that? She's the idiot who went and fell in love. That must be what she feels, deep seated in her bones, a warmth and a fondness and the unbearableness of it all. Too much too soon, but she can't change it. She can't take it back.

She doesn't want to.

Her fingers flicker before she cups one side of his face. Her four digits feel small against his cheek, his face _too_ hot, her heart beating erratically in her chest. She's known, known since he'd come out of the storm and she hadn't cared about anything else. Doesn't care about anything else, but if this is the end, and he doesn't make it, then—

"Callum," she says, everything in her shaking, but she needs him to know. Even if he can't hear it. "I— _I—_ "

He jerks awake, gasping, lungs grasping at air like he'd been drowning, and Rayla jerks back as though she's been burned. Her fingertips tingle. Heat rushes to her face as she sees colour similarly return to his. She coughs weakly. Drums up some excuse and something to do with her hands. Watches his eyes, bright and alert and alive, take her in. The slight squint of confusion at their current situation.

She's embarrassed—stumbling, the way he would through a conversation—but mostly all she feels is relief, and disbelief, and she doesn't want to stop touching him, so she licks her thumb and goes to wipe away his sleep crusties, and he lets her, for just a moment, before his warm, steady hand catches her by the wrist.

"I understand the Sky arcanum," he says and that catches her off guard.

Rayla sits back, staring.

Because isn't one miracle already enough?


	17. 3x01 — Sol Regem

After Sol Regem, there is almost nothing but relief. Exhaustion and elation thrum close behind, his bones aching, but in a different way than they did in the aftermath of Dark Magic. (Gods, was that only two days earlier? It feels like a lifetime already since Ezran walked away.) Xadia is beyond anything Callum could have dreamed, even when they're just stuck in the canyons. Rayla says it will take a good day and a half of walking to reach the great forests that lay on the other side of it.

Being in Xadia leaves him feeling as magical as he does melancholic. They're south from the Breach proper, he knows, but Callum also knows his mother would've just died northward from here, and not by much, and despite himself, he can't manage to shake the more somber thoughts. He supposes the craziness of the past few days would catch up with him in their more quiet moments, though.

Rayla notices his continued silences once they make camp in a crevice in the canyon, night falling as softly as her hand on his shoulder. "Hey, are you okay?"

An unexpected lump rises in his throat. He is, really. But Ezran's absence has room to finally, truly sting, just as the rest of their quest without him (without Harrow, without Mom) looms ahead. He sniffs and stares into the fire Zym lit a little while ago. "I'm fine."

Rayla hums, her knees drawn up to her chest, before she rests her chin on top of them. "Not chatty for once," she prods, poking at his cheek with a finger. Callum bats her hand away and then scratches Zym on the chin when he toddles over for snuggles. She's smiling now and just the sight of it makes him want to smile back. Rayla's magic like that, too. "Xadia finally stunned you silent? I should've brought you here weeks ago, for a bit of peace an' quiet."

He does smile then, narrowing his eyes at her. "Hey."

"Go on, then," she nudges. "Prove me wrong."

"How?"

"I dunno." She looks around but Callum thinks she already had this whole conversation planned, already. "What about your five questions?"

"From the river?" he remembers, warmth spreading in his chest. She'd been grumpy back then—well, grump _ier_.

"You only got to ask two questions. You've got three left."

He remembers the context he started that questionnaire under, too. _It'll be a fun distraction, help take your mind off things_. And he doesn't mind having a taste of his own medicine, especially if Rayla is more willing to share. He chooses his questions carefully but Rayla doesn't keep track, letting the conversation develop from there, and answering anything about Xadia she can: plants, animals, places. But eventually something tired slips over her face and wears at him, too. Or at the very least, he hasn't gotten his second wind (ha! Wind, get it?) yet like before.

"Okay, final question," he declares, their knees touching from where they sit on the log. Zym's curled up on both their laps, his head in Rayla's, and she meets Callum's gaze with fond amusement. His voice and smile softens. "You know you're my best friend, too, right?"

Callum can watch everything in her ease, as she leans over and lets her head rest on his shoulder. It only turns his cheeks a bit pink. "Yeah," she says, "I do."

Later, he will fall asleep and wake up, and then wake her up for stargazing, and she'll indulge him, because he knows she's glad he's back to normal—or whatever Callum-y weirdness that counts as normal. The second time falling asleep will be a bit more peaceful, and somehow less so, as he watches the moonlight turn her hair silver and sleep smooth out her features, and think, _Oh._

Maybe this isn't something people who are _just_ best friends feel for each other, either.


	18. 3x02 — The Crown

Rayla spends the rest of the afternoon picking adoraburrs out of his hair. Callum isn't a whiny baby about it, either. It'll be one more night's rest and they'll reach the Silvergrove by midday tomorrow, even after a bit of a lie in; still, she knows he's tired as he lays in the grass and closes his eyes, letting the adoraburrs scamper over him. Most leave on their own, but a good half still cling to his clothes and his hair, and well—there are worse ways to pass an afternoon or evening, Rayla thinks.

Gods, she's hopeless for him, isn't she?

She picks an adoraburr off his brow and lets it hop onto a tall stalk of grass. She drops another onto his nose with a giggle, and Callum scrunches his face up and plucks it off himself, opening his eyes. He wrinkles his nose at her next, annoyance slightly ruined by the grin tugging at his lips, and Rayla smiles back, similarly teasing.

This time when Callum flops back down, he doesn't close his eyes, and they watch Zym 'chase' after some adoraburrs a few years away. "Thanks for showing me this," Callum says after a slight stretch of silence. "This place is amazing." A content sigh escapes him. "Xadia is amazing."

"It really is something," she agrees as she starts de-adoburring his scarf next. "You're really not going to be any help in this, are you?"

"You're the adoraburr expert."

"You're just lazy."

"Tired, not lazy. There is a distinct difference." He perks up. "Like between vengeance and revenge."

"I'm gonna regret teaching you those constellations, aren't I?"

Callum shifts and gazes up at her, peace softening out his face and his smile. "Seriously though, thanks for showing me this place. I'll show you the places in the castle Ez and I found growing up back home one day." Confidence curves his smile next. "We've never shown them to anyone, so you'll have to be sworn to secrecy."

"Ah yes," Rayla quips, beaming. "I should have told you—I brought you here, but now I'll have to kill you. Only way to make sure I can have as much alone time here as I want."

Callum laughs. She hasn't heard him laugh in a while, Rayla reflects, not since they found out about Harrow. But maybe crossing into Xadia would be good for both of them. "Are you sure I can't be the exception?" he asks.

She thinks, _You already are_ , but she can't say that. "I might allow it." She picks another adoraburr off his scarf. "You are the first person I've brought here, though."

He sits up a bit more, eyes wide and bright. Slightly awed, like just the other day, when she'd made her speech in front of Sol Regem. It makes her heart twist a little; can he not see how special he is, in general? To her? "Really?"

"Mmhm."

That broad grin, eyes soft with affection, overtakes his face again. Her heart does a backflip. "Well now I feel special," he decides.

"You _are_ special."

The words escape her before she can stop them, and Rayla looks for a way out, something to busy herself with. The only other place to pluck adoraburrs off now is his jacket and she doesn't trust herself to do so without blushing, so she refrains. Which may be dumb, because then won't he _notice_ , and she's pretty sure she's _already_ blushing anyway... She resists the urge to fidget and tucks her hair behind her ear instead. It shouldn't make her this flustered. Wasn't her speech to Sol Regem much more than that? But she's also not vouching for his life, and...

When she finds the courage to look back at him, she finds Callum already looking at her, and any remaining breath she has is gone, even before he speaks, his voice soft. "You're special to me too."

She hadn't realized his face was so close. And he isn't pulling away, similarly spellbound, it seems, stuck in her eyes.

And then the moment is broken when a bunch of adoraburrs jump on his face for a sort of fuzzy, colourful revenge, and they peel away, laughing it off. This time Callum helps her pick the adoraburrs off him and they don't get lost in each other's eyes (or at least, she manages not to get lost in his; thinking that he ever did in hers may have been a trick of the twilight, of her hopeful heart), too lost in giggle fits.

Rayla thinks she likes the way he laughs most of all.


	19. 3x03 — Ghost

Callum stews quietly in the Silvergrove, once Ethari's left. Part of him is tempted to follow the elf into the other room and continue giving him a piece of his mind—how could any parent do that to their child? How could anyone do that to _Rayla_?—but the spell has made it clear that it nothing would get through. The Ghosting spell is onesided and cruel and harsh, and so unfair it makes his blood boil.

His anger ebbs when he stands next to her at the mountain, rising momentarily—"But you _didn't_ run. They have it all wrong."—and at her dejected, "Does it matter?" He and Rayla watch Ethari approach with trepidation, and then he makes amends. Gives them mounts and Rayla a heartfelt pendant. It's something. (It's hardly enough.)

They make a campfire, miles away and late into the night, and Rayla is quiet. Callum has Zym get the logs going and Xadia is so lush and full of food to forage he goes looking for it himself, too. Nothing seems to be poisonous, or at least, Rayla doesn't shoot down whatever he brings back. Just accepts it with a quiet thank you.

Callum waits until he hears her fall asleep until he lets himself follow, but even that is minutes later, as the anger returns and Zym curls up sadly by her back. The loss of a parent is something Callum can understand, even if that parent is responsible for the loss of his own. But an entire village, turning _their backs_ on her? When they didn't even know what had happened! She could've been captured and kept alive for all they knew. Followed orders and carried everything out perfectly but been the lone survivor. She didn't do anything wrong! She did the right thing—and this is how she's treated for it? There's admiration and wonder in Xadian and for elven magic, but in terms of some social norms, like this and fear, Callum thinks they have a lot to learn.

Through all of this crazy journey, he always knew he had a home to go back to. How much Katolis will feel like home is up for debate, now that his dad is gone and Claudia and Soren and Viren are—not who he thought, but there's still the castle. Opeli and the familiar advisors and guards. The kitchens, his room. His brother. Rayla... Rayla has none of that.

Where will she go once all of this is done? Where can she go? Even if the Ghosting could be reversed the way Ethari had, widespread and longterm... the Dragon Queen offering up a pardon, maybe? Would Rayla even _want_ to go back? Did _he_ want her to go back?

Callum pauses. The thought of separation at the end of their journey has never struck him so strongly before, and the unbearable ache that follows. He doesn't know how to be without her anymore. He doesn't want her going back to a place where she wasn't loved properly, wants that she is. He stews in his anger and other feelings, casting looks at her sleeping form.

How could anyone _not_ love her? he thinks, fuming, and then—Oh. _He_ loves her. He _loves_ her.

His throat dries and he turns to go to sleep, but keeps his eyes on her. On the soft slope of her back, Zym nestled and snoring, her hair like silver in the moonlight. He loves her. Is in love with her. He wonders how he'll tell her. If he should. In a few days, maybe. Once they're closer to their goal and she's had time to process and... talk, about all this. She'll have to eventually.

And, afterwards, if she wants him to be her new home, he will.


	20. 3x04 — The Midnight Desert

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is technically after the opening of 3x05 but you know what we're just gonna roll with it, it's the same night as 3x04, it counts

They have to wait out the night. There's no point in trying to go back to sleep, although Rayla figures they're likely actually safer now with Nyx gone than they were when she was around. They're too worried about Zym and simultaneously hyped up and exhausted on adrenaline. Can't they just have _one_ day, she thinks bitterly, where they don't almost die or have nothing bad happen? Just one?

Rayla thinks it would be a sleepless night for her anyway, with what just happened. Maybe it's stupid to think about it at all, but it's not like there's anything else to do, and Callum is sitting _right over there_ a few logs away, sneaking glances whenever he thinks she isn't looking like he's ever been successfully discreet about anything, and—

She'd kissed him. Like a total idiot, she'd kissed him. She'd been doing just fine at keeping her feelings under wraps, and then letting herself hope she didn't have to, because she was sure she'd caught him staring and blushing at her when they'd been dancing, and then a few hours ago... How else was she _supposed_ to take his speech? But she'd read it all wrong and even worse, he _knew_...

Perhaps it's petty, but Rayla finds a shred of thankfulness at the fact that Callum looks as miserable and embarrassed as she feels whenever she manages to work up the nerve to glance back at him. What he has to be so miserable and embarrassed about, she doesn't know. Zym is the obvious, but her brain won't let herself consider any other paths other than _success_ , and Callum is almost as stubborn as she is. Of course they're going to get their baby dragon back. Anything else is awful and unthinkable. Even if it's part of the reason for her misery and could be the sole reason behind his own.

But embarrassed? She thinks of the shame and tears on her cheeks that had caused her to run away in the first place. _I don't want you to see me like this_ , she'd cried, her hood drawn up over her head. But then he'd tucked it away and called her beautiful. She's the one who kissed him and although Callum had—almost per usual—left some tact to be desired, he'd overall let her down gently when she looked back on it. She thinks of the way he'd followed her out of the safety of the Oasis even though he didn't have to, the gut instinct that made her yank the Soulfang serpent away from him with her bare hand.

If they never talk about the kiss again, the embarrassment will fade and they can go back to being best friends, nice and easy. Rayla has no doubt she can do that, even if it'll understandably hurt, having feelings for him the way she does when he explicitly doesn't feel the same way, but she can manage. Callum on the other hand... She glances over to his spot on a rock two logs over and finds it empty and her heart rises to his throat. What? When did he move? Was he stupid enough to think he could go ofter Zym himself—

"Hey." Callum plops down onto her log beside on the opposite side and Rayla jumps. Glares at him for worrying her, and then looks away from his face, because maybe that's too hard now too. (Maybe just being friends will be harder than she thought.)

She stares at her shoes instead. "Hey."

Callum purses his lips and sighs, and for a second Rayla thinks he's going to leave—but he just braces one hand on either side of his legs and sticks his ground. "I know things are—" He blanches, eyes widening when she shoots him a glower. Didn't she make it clear they weren't going to talk about this? "—Uh, not how we want to it be. Right now. But—" He settles as he focuses on her and Rayla has to work to not automatically soften. Really, the hold he has over her is absolutely unfair. "I don't want you to close up again like you did before, okay? It's not healthy to keep things bottled up. And I'm here. No matter what happens."

It's the same sort of sweet, sappy promise that made her want to kiss him in the first place, and Rayla's heart both melts and twists. "I know," she assures him, because it's true.

"And a lot of stuff might happen," he continues, more noticeably meandering. Sometimes Rayla wishes he would just get to the point. "Some good and some bad, like uh, some stuff that happened, may have happened earlier, which was decidedly not—"

She grits her teeth and turns away from him. " _Callum_." She rubs at her temples. "Please."

She can't take one more disaster. One more rejection.

Even his sigh doesn't sound happy about it. "Okay," he agrees reluctantly, and she dreads the moment he'll try and bring it up again, eventually. That's always been his way. She can't get away with anything around him—for better or for worse. "I just... We're friends," he says. "And friends are able to tell each other anything. So it's not... bad, what you, uh, told me. And I still stand by everything I said. You really are the most amazing person I've ever met."

Rayla rests her head on top of crossed arms, her knees drawn up. She doesn't dare look at him. "I don't feel like it right now." There's still the same gaping wound at before, at the loss of her home and family. Nothing can fill that.

When she works up the nerve to look at him, Callum seems at a loss for words too, and there's a hint of satisfaction in that, too. At least she's not the only one who's lost. Zym. Her, Callum.

"Well, no matter what, you're my best friend," he reminds her. "And we can figure this out together."

As friends. They'll always be friends. It's in this moment that Rayla knows her confession hasn't ruined everything. They still have each other. They're still a team. She raises her head and smiles a little for the first time since everything went wrong. "Thanks, Callum."

"Of course," he replies. The sparse serenity on his face gives way to a nervous chuckle. "And uh, about the uh—"

" _Not_ talking about it."

"Right, of course, shutting up now."

This heartfelt prince is going to be the death of her—and maybe she'll survive it anyway.


	21. 3x05 — Heroes and Masterminds

(It's night when they finally get to settle on the ambler's saddle and the last thing to do is to pull up the rope. Rayla hoists it up, glad that for once everything is over even if she still has to put up with Nyx. She doesn't bother to hold back her grumbles—"Nope, that's not it, I do not like you at all"—and is surprised, then spellbound, when Callum starts talking. Stunned when he kisses her, exasperated and elated when he pulls away just as she was starting to kiss back. Her heart bursts as he melts into her and then they melt into each other.

In the arms of the boy she loves in the Midnight Desert, Rayla is found.)

"You couldn't have told me this earlier?" she says, trying to sound annoyed but too happy to manage it as they set along the saddle. Her arm is a warm weight as his back and Callum doesn't want to move any further, not ever again.

"I _tried_ ," he says. "But you can be very stubborn sometimes."

Rayla gives him a small, sheepish grin and shrug of her shoulders. "Sorry."

But he won't have her feeling down about herself if he can help it, so Callum just smiles and presses his nose to hers. "Don't be," he says, still giddy with the freedom to be as close to her and sound as adoring as he wants. "Your determination is one of my favourite things about you."

Her lips curl. "Another to add to the list?"

"Mm," he waggles his eyebrows at her, "is that a problem?"

"Dummy," she mumbles fondly and then presses her mouth to his _again_ and Callum's entire being relaxes into it even if it makes him feel awake. He'll never get used to or tired of this, he knows. Reality is finally better than any dream he's ever had. _She's_ better than any dream he's ever had. Their foreheads are touching when she pulls away and neither of them moves forward.

"I like you _so much_ ," he breathes and Rayla's giddy grin in response steals away whatever's left of his breath.

"I like you too, very much."

He takes her hand just to hold and thinks of one of the first days at Lujanne's, when he'd insisted on trying to give her a high four too by bending one finger down. Now her fingers are easy to interlace with his and his heart swells. A perfect fit.

Later, when he's half asleep on her shoulder, she'll notice the shape of the moon and do the math, of three weeks since they met. He'll sleepily remember something his mother said once, when he first moved into the castle and couldn't call it home. _Give it time,_ she'd encouraged. _They say it takes 21 days to form a habit_. They'll think of the habits they've formed in relation of each other.

They made a habit out of love.

Glancing over to see where the other has been sleeping first thing upon waking. Looking out for Ezran when the other needs a break and learning how to fill in the space left behind. Rayla falling asleep to the sound of his breathing. Callum learning when she's too grumpy to tease. Her hand on his arm when she wants to show him something magical and _real_. Taking turns carrying Zym. The natural way their fingers lock together. The way it's second nature to think of each other's safety and concerns and responses to any crazy thing they've come across in their journey.

The way they fall asleep in each other's arms is something new, but they know it'll be added to the list, too, in time.

Rayla rests her head on top of his and it feels like home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed this story and thanks for sticking along for the ride! <3


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